


Monitor Duty: Interrupted

by Conjure_Lass



Series: Science Buddy Love Affair or How Brainy and Lyle Fell in Love [4]
Category: Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics)
Genre: Legion Reboot Era, M/M, Reboot Legion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conjure_Lass/pseuds/Conjure_Lass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Querl Dox has always hated monitor duty, but he has to admit that Lyle does make it a bit more interesting than it used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monitor Duty: Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Why? Because this fandom will never have enough fic and I will forever be trying to fill the gaps. 
> 
> Science babies! <3333

_02:00 Terran Standard Time_

Querl has always hated monitor duty.

Why his comrades insist on wasting a fine intellect like his own on menial chores such as this is beyond him; they could just as easily assign the job to a semi-sentient banana and it would doubtless be able to accomplish the task with a minimum of fuss. He doesn’t care how many times they tell him that it’s a part of his “duty” and that he has to take his turn; he’s been told to stop complaining about it, but he simply can’t stop. There are, quite literally, over four hundred other things he could be doing at this precise moment that would be unbelievably more beneficial to the universe than staring at blank screens waiting for someone to inform them that a Malorian spacekitten is up a tree.

Couldn’t they just get a secretary or something? Didn’t they have enough credits to hire someone in? Surely Mr. Brande would be happy to oblige as he was no longer acting president and had easily sixty-seven percent more time on his hands than before. Besides, everyone knew that Triad did all the heavy lifting as far as the company went anyway…there was really no reason why he couldn’t pull permanent monitor duty.

Brainiac makes a self-note to bring it up at the next meeting.

Still, there are some things that this assignment is good for. Querl is left almost completely undisturbed for hours on end, able to calculate even the most intense computational equations without distraction. He can indulge in a bit of recreational slumber, allowing himself to fall into an anabolic state and occasionally plug into the SleepNet when he’s feeling sociable. He can even perform a few minor experiments without anyone bothering him or asking him a million questions as to the nature of his experimentation.

But there was one (particularly delightful, he might add) facet of the whole tedious business that made it all worthwhile.

He can watch Lyle Norg all night long.

This sort of thing has become something of a competition between them; Querl will periodically hack into whatever security systems were nearest and wait, counting down the seconds until Lyle’s Superspy-Sense kicks in to alert him that he’s become the star of another of Querl’s voyeuristic indulgences. Sometimes, once both parties were aware of the situation, they’d engage one another; sometimes Lyle would either not figure out what was going on or intentionally ignore it. Either way it’s amusing enough to keep the doldrums away when the other Legionnaire is gone on a mission. Because, despite how disgustingly sentimental it is, watching Lyle work has become something of a newly discovered comfort for Brainiac.

Take right now for instance.

Lyle is currently busying himself in the laboratory of one of the Legion’s largest space cruisers somewhere in Quadrant 14-B, hunched over an isotopic scanner as he examines a bit of debris they’d discovered on Talok II. Brainiac isn’t privy to all the details at this point, but he can clearly assess from the way Lyle’s eyebrows come together and the set of his shoulders that it is fascinating to him. The human often finds chemical analysis to be captivating, and his enthusiasm for the scientific discipline is both endearing and unintentionally infectious.

Leaning forward onto the consol, Querl rests his chin in his palm and observes for a moment. Lyle has pushed his headband up high onto his forehead, a slight sweat having broken out on his brow so that it shimmers in the overhead lights. He scribbles something on a nearby omnicom and adjusts the scanner, moving on to another sample as his dark hair spills out over the dials haphazardly. Over and over he repeats the process until there’s nothing left to scan, eventually bringing the notes he’s written up close to his face before giving the bridge of his nose a tired squeeze. It’s only then that Querl really notices the dark smudges under his eyes and the lateness of the hour; he wishes that Lyle would notice him so he could tell him to go to sleep.

How many times has Lyle reminded Querl to go to bed? To eat? It’s only right that he return the favor after all this time.

As if on cue, Lyle glances up towards the security cameras, his mouth falling open before pulling up into a pleased smile. At this point Querl knows he’s been found out and turns on the nearest vidscreen, his stomach flipping in on itself in pleasure even though he knows that’s physically impossible.

“Greetings,” he says, moving to get more comfortable in his chair as Lyle sits down in his own. “Something interesting?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Lyle embarks on a ten-minute explanation of what he’s just been studying, his hands moving excitedly in every direction as he goes over the nuances and details. Brainiac has to admit that the element he’s discovered is actually rather captivating; the future ramifications of it in practical application are astounding. Still, Lyle starts yawning somewhere in the middle of his account and it makes Querl frown in what he hopes is compassionate harassment. 

“You haven’t slept since we spoke yesterday afternoon, have you?” 

“Huh?” He can see Lyle struggle to process the question. He’s exhausted. “I guess? I don’t know, I’ve been really busy. How long were you watching me, anyway?”

“Forty-three minutes and seventeen seconds.”

“Really?!” Lyle blinks, looking taken aback; he rubs the nape of his neck. “You definitely win that round, babe.”

The term of endearment has Brainiac fighting the urge to squirm in his chair. In spite of the fact that he spent the better part of his first year in the Legion trying to convince everyone not to call him Brainy, he can’t help but take pleasure in Lyle’s ridiculous pet names. Granted, he’s made a point of telling him never to use them around anyone else, but when they’re alone like this it’s not so bad. It’s fine, in fact.

Nice, even.

Nodding, he glances at a nearby clock and stretches his arms above his head. “Really. Why don’t you get some sleep, Lyle? You’re in route back to LegionWorld, are you not?”

“Yeah! But I can’t go to sleep now!”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t you checked the duty roster, Brainy?” Something warm flashes through Lyle’s eyes that causes Brainiac’s respiratory system to falter, the problem compounding exponentially when he hears the tone of his voice change. It’s softer now, more intimate, a near octave lower than it previously was and thick like saccharine syrup. Obviously intentional, but delightfully so. 

And he does bring up a good point; they’re both off duty tomorrow.

“I did. What of it?” he replies with an airy wave of his hand, hoping he’s not giving away how easily he’s already been affected.

The sound of the other Legionnaire’s anti-gravitational chair decompressing is loud through the audio apparatus. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you,” Lyle whispers, leaning in and biting at his bottom lip so hard that it swells faintly, the flesh turning rosy beneath his teeth. It draws Querl’s attention against his will, makes him wish they weren’t separated by six quadrants of empty space.

“What is your eta?” His collar feels suffocating so he pops it loose, secretly delighting in the way his lover’s gaze follows every move of his fingers. There’s something addicting about the knowledge that such an exquisite young man finds him desirable, that he’s _wanted_. The attraction is entirely mutual though; Querl is enchanted to the point of nausea. “14-B isn’t more than a few hours away, correct?”

Lyle’s fingers inch up to remove the headband holding his hair at bay, allowing the chocolaty waves to cascade against his cheeks. “Forty-five minutes, tops,” he replies with a coy smile, snuggling down further into his seat. The position screams of a unique blend of bashfulness and charm; Querl couldn’t have looked away even if he’d wanted to. All twelve of his thought tracks are utterly focused, transfixed completely on the sight of Lyle Norg gently trailing fingertips down the plane of his stomach to the buckle of his belt. “Wanna play til I get home?”

Brainiac nods almost numbly in reply, his own fingers drifting to lower the fastener of his top and expose the line of his collarbone. Exhibitionism is still a bit foreign to him, so he worries that he looks ridiculous with his uniform hanging half off his shoulder until the tender smile he receives in return for his efforts bolsters his confidence. Lyle likes this, Querl can see it in the way he leans in to get a better look, the way his eyes are dilating. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Brainiac pushes the fabric a few inches lower, inwardly taking note of how quickly his internal body temperature is rising in response to secondary sexual stimuli.

“I believe I can engage your attention until you disemba--”

“Braaaaainnnyyyyyyy!”

The universe _hates_ him.

Because surely having Spark sprint into the room just as he’s running a thumb over his nipple is a kind of universal punishment for the irreparable harm the Brainiac line has wrought over the millennia. Surely it’s some great cosmic joke that just as he hears Lyle whisper his name in a way that sends shivers down his spine that the infuriating girl would pounce him from behind. Why him?! Why does he have to endure watching her eyes widen to the size of magnoball discs when she realizes what she’s just interrupted? What could he have possibly done in all his life to deserve hearing Lyle’s laughter bellowing out of the speakers; how is any of this funny?!

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” she cries out, waving her hands about as though she’s trying to erase the entire situation. Taking a few backwards steps, she covers her blushing cheeks even as the color threatens to overwhelm her whole face. “Oh my grife, I promise I will buzz from now on! Wow…I’m…I’m going to go…oh my grife…”

Once she’s gone in a blaze of apologies Querl turns back to the screen, glaring openly as Lyle dabs his eyes with his sleeve in an obvious attempt to compose himself. “You find this amusing?” he asks unbelievably, tugging his uniform back into place with angry, jerking motions. “You realize she just caught us engaging in holo-sexual stimulation?!”

“I know.” Lyle starts chuckling again, leaning his chin in his palm as though mimicking the way Querl had done earlier. “But your face was so priceless, Brainy. Gods, that blush is sprocking ador--awwwww, babe, don’t be mad.”

Querl crosses his arms over his chest and looks towards the wall. “How are you not in any way humiliated by this?”

“Humiliated?” Lyle echoes, sobering almost instantly. “Why the hell would I be embarrassed that the most intelligent, amazing, beautiful guy in the Legion was giving me a private strip show?” Ducking down, he has the grace to look a little sheepish. “Well…sort of private, anyway.”

Oh, Querl knows full well that Lyle is trying to assuage his frustration with compliments to keep himself out of trouble; it's clear in the tilt of his head and the hopeful slant of his lips as he smiles. Yet Querl also knows that on many levels Lyle is actually telling the truth. He genuinely _believes_ that Querl is “amazing and beautiful”, which is…pretty much the most unexpectedly pleasant experience of Brainiac’s entire life.

“You’re just trying to…how do you Terrans say it? Butter me down?”

“Haha! Oh my grife! Butter you up! Up!” He points upwards with his index finger repeatedly, his eyes crinkling together in amusement. “And yes, I am. Is it working?”

Brainiac would like to say no -he really would- as the damnable human fully deserves it for being such an insufferable brat. But when he looks into Lyle’s face, at the way he surveys him from beneath thick lashes as though already knowing the answer to his question, Querl realizes that he doesn’t really want to. What he wants to do is go to Saturn Girl and convince her to erase Spark’s memory of what she’s just borne witness to, but then he guesses he can’t get everything he wants. Besides, he can just as easily invent something and do it himself when she isn't looking.

“Perhaps.” He says instead, allowing himself to smile in return, to flirt and forget his frustration as easily as it came. It’s a skill he’s getting better at, one that he’s glad to learn. His stress level has already decreased 3.7% since engaging in a romantic relationship with Lyle. “What is your eta?”

“Twenty-two minutes.” Voice sultry again, it is obvious that Lyle would be more than happy to pick up right where they left off.

Too easy.

“Well then!” The chair hisses as Querl rises up out of it, the movement allowing him to hide a smug grin behind his hand when Lyle’s eyes go wide and questioning. “That gives me adequate time to shower and ready our room for your arrival! I shall meet you in the hanger in precisely a half hour.”

“Brainy? Hey, Brainy!” Lyle is calling, but Querl is already halfway to the door. “You know, I don’t know if I love you anymore!”

A quick pause to glance back over his shoulder.

“Norg, we _both_ know that isn’t true.”

“…yeah, you’re right.”

“I know.”


End file.
